Destruction
by tiny-phoenix
Summary: The story of Zelika's capture and eventual death, through her eyes. The thoughts going through the mind of a destroyed child, and how one person  can change a life. My first Pellinor story, review!
1. Chapter 1

My name is Zelika. I used to have siblings and a mother and a father, and a house. I used to learn and smile and play. I used to have friends and mentors. I used to sit on the roof of my house and watch the sunset with my brothers. I used to have goals, but I never had any worries. I don't have any of those things now. I used to think the world was a peaceful place. I was oblivious to the truth.

My friends are either dead or refugees, empty shells of the cheerful people they used to be. My house is gone, burned to the ground and trampled on by the filthy feet of the Black Army. I can no longer sit on the roof and watch the sunset. My family is dead, my home is gone. Baladh is gone.

I no longer count myself as a living being. I do not yet have the vacant stare of the refugees, but I do not have light in my eyes, as I used to. I do not think about sunsets, I do not think about baked treats. I cannot think about what life used to be because it stabs me, makes me cringe and scream in my sleep, makes my eyes burn and my heart tear. I have only one thing on my mind, and that is to kill the monsters who killed me.


	2. Chapter 2

I looked over at Hem and narrowed my eyes. He was sleeping peacefully, which was a rare thing for these days. I sat up and shook my head, ridding my eyes of the sleep heaviness. There was no way to know what time of day it was in Nak-Al-Burat, as we were deep underground. I could hear some muffled voices though, so I was guessing that it was early morning. There were enough people in the underground city to make me feel wary, but not enough for me to feel immediately in danger. Saliman would have said something if we were in trouble.

Slowly and quietly, I rose out of the bed and tiptoed down the nearest hallway, towards the voices. As I crept closer and closer, the voices became clearer and I could tell that they were the voices of small children. Finally I came to a room, seemingly empty except for about four or five smiling babies. I stood in the doorway for a moment, looking in wonder at the little ones. Then a smooth voice sounded behind me and I spun around, suddenly feeling guilty.

"Hello. I would say good morning, but I can't quite be sure of it."

It was a tall, pale woman. At first I thought she was angry, but then I saw the playful shimmer in her eyes, and I relaxed only slightly. I remembered her from the night before, what was her name? I was horribly tired, so names flew right past me. I was beginning to panic. I was not terribly familiar with the ways of Bards. Would she be insulted that I forgot her name?

I stammered a little. "H-hello. I'm sorry, I just heard voices.. I didn't expect children.."

The woman smiled. "It's perfectly fine. Zelika, right?"

I nodded clumsily. _Remember, you stupid girl! Think! You know her name! _I thought furiously.

She walked past me into the room and picked up the nearest child, a tan boy with wildly curly hair. "They were rescued from Savitir, these children. Poor little things.. But they are so sweet."

"Yes.." I mumbled, looking around uncomfortably. _Wait.. Did it start with an N? Or was it an M? Mimika? No.. Nerika.. Nimikera! That has to be it._

Nimikera looked up from the child and gave me a strange look before picking up her smile again. "You've seen a lot, haven't you?"

It seemed like a strange question. I didn't know how to answer, and so I didn't.

"I mean, you've seen too much for a child your age. The young Hem also. Too much death.. All of us have seen too much."

I nodded again, and suddenly found my voice as I looked at the dark-skinned boy. "If.. If you have something to do, I can watch the little ones."

She looked a little shocked, but nodded gratefully after a moment. "Yes, I do have to speak to Hared. If you'll be alright here, I would certainly appreciate it."

Nimikera stood up and smiled at me before sweeping down the passageway. I looked down at the little boy with the wild hair and tried to smile weakly. "Little sunchild, we are much the same."

I picked him up and sat, holding the child in my lap. "But I will redeem us."

As I watched the little boy giggle and writhe in my arms, I realized that I had no choice but to accomplish what these children could not. I had to avenge the horrors that these innocents could not even begin to fathom.


	3. Chapter 3

_ This is my chance!_ I thought excitedly. Opening my eyes, I didn't even bother to look around and see if Hem had woken up. Hem and I had been training with Hared for a week and a half now, training for our chance to strike at the Black Army. _Well, maybe not in so many words. _

Hem and I were to go undercover as members of the Black Army, two more children soldiers. The thought made me shiver. Thankfully, in the bustle of the battles in Turbansk, we had not seen the children soldiers. I dreaded the idea of seeing the faces of my brothers on one of the children. Then what? Surely I could not kill my own brother. Hatred had not gripped me that tightly that I would kill my own kin.

Saliman was wary, wanting us to be incredibly wary, but not even he could hold me back from this opportunity. We were only supposed to observe, watch and pretend, but I had the strangest feeling in the pit of my stomach that I wouldn't be able to do that. If I had a chance – even one chance – to take down a member of the Black Army, the damnable monsters that had destroyed my home, then I was afraid that that chance could not be passed up.

I shook those thoughts from my head as I slipped on boots and ran right for the door. A little down the passageway, an eerie cold swept through my body, seeming to seep into my very bones. I stopped dead in my tracks and instinctively looked behind me, expecting that this was one of Hared's training tricks. Deep inside, however, I knew it was not.

I was about to resume my walk when I heard a slight rustling movement down the passage. _Or was it behind me? _I asked myself. It was impossible to tell in which direction the noise had come from. I stood at an awkward angle in the narrow hallway, closing my eyes to listen for the noise again. _There it is!_ I turned to the direction that I had originally come from and squinted through the darkness. The noise had definitely been closer.

"Hem?" I called quietly, realizing that maybe he had just woken up and was trying to follow me in the darkness. _Why has no one lit the torches in this passage this morning?_ I thought suddenly. That was not a common occurrence. The torches were always lit.

No one answered me, but the rustling noise continued to get closer. "Hem!" I said louder, taking a tentative step forward.

_No, daughter of Baladh, I am not the young Cai._

I jumped and squeaked at the sudden voice in my mind. I could hear the voice, but it was not an actual sound. It was in my head only, and somehow I knew that. I shut my eyes tightly. What language was the voice speaking? It could not be the Speech, I had no knowledge of the language, the language of the Bards. Could it be some dialect of the Suderain? It had to be, for I understood the voice perfectly.

_Be not afraid, dear Zelika. Open your eyes, for I have much to tell you in very little time._

Slowly and carefully, I opened my eyes, but my sight was met with only darkness. Then the eyes appeared in my mind. Was it in my mind? Even now, I cannot be sure. I could see them, and yet I knew that my eyes could only see darkness. I could feel them gazing upon me, and yet in any direction I turned, I could _see_ nothing. But in my mind, I saw everything. The startling eyes, with their catlike slits and their somehow wise gaze. They bore into me, saw everything that I desired to achieve, everything that I was working for. I shivered. _This is the work of Bards,_ I thought immediately, _it has to be._

"W-who are you?" I called into the dark, grasping out for the wall to steady myself. Even then, I was expecting an actual answer, and when the voice sounded again in my mind, I felt my heart thump with shock.

_I am many names, but for now, for this moment, but never again, you shall know me as Nyanar. _

"Nyanar.." I repeated slowly. Strangely enough, I had to struggle to remember it. For a moment, I would forget it, and then I would hear the rustling sound again, and the name would spring back to life in my mind.

_You will know the hatred of this world for such a small time, my little one. You will soon be freed. But for the short time you have left, you will help Cai. Even after your time is done, you will help him. Without you, he will not achieve his end of the Treesong. This must be done, my sunchild. You are his inspiration._

The entire time the voice spoke, the eyes gazed upon me, never moving their sight, never blinking. They merely gazed, and I didn't have the nerve to try to escape. I was mesmerized, both by the eyes and by the calm, soothing voice which spoke. When it was done speaking, the eyes blinked for the first time. I could _feel_ them smile at me, a sad smile, such a horribly sad smile. Then the eyes were gone. I could feel their presence disappear from my mind, and when I listened for the voice again, for the rustling, I found only the echoing silence of the empty passageway.

_What did he mean?_ I thought. _He speaks as if I'm dying. I will help Hem because I will be there to defeat the Black Army. I will not die._ _Hem's inspiration? I do not know about that. I think this.. man must be mistaken. If anything, Hem is my inspiration._

I sat down roughly on the cold floor of the still-dark passage. _How can he be so calm when so much is going on? How is he not furious all the time?_

Suddenly the passage began to change. It twisted and contorted, the floor moving up while the ceiling came down. I stayed in the same place, but the world was changing.

I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes slowly. After yawning loudly, I dragged myself to the edge of the bed and swung my legs over. I paused, thinking about the wonderful dream I had had. There had been a sunny grove of trees, with lush grass and tall, strong trees. My family had been there. We ran and played and laughed, and nothing was wrong. They welcomed me, and I smiled with them.

I expected to feel resentment, knowing that they were no longer there to laugh or play with me, but I only felt joy, much to my surprise. I had not felt this happy in such a long time. I looked over to where Hem still snored lightly, and I felt my eyes soften. _I will not be so harsh to him today,_ I thought. _He has been working very hard under Hared, he's earned a day of kindness._

As I rose from the bed and prepared to pull on my boots, I stopped and looked at Hem again, and said something that shocks me to this day, although I knew he could not hear me.

"Thank you, Hem."

I did not feel as angry.


End file.
